Give You What You Like
by wheniwrite
Summary: Eve Moneypenny believes Q's in danger. She sees him fall into the flames which he can't escape. Q is tired and angry, because she's wrong. And James? Well, he just wants Q to be happy. Is it so hard to believe, Eve?


**GIVE YOU WHAT YOU LIKE **

Work inspirited by the song: Avril Lavigne: **Give You What You Like **

The English translation started: 30.3.2014 and was finished: 3.4.2014

**Word count:** 2836

* * *

_When you turn off the lights_

_I get stars in my eyes_

_Is this love?_

_Maybe someday_

_So don't turn on the lights_

_I'll give you what you like_

Eve Moneypenny was worried about her friend.

„You should stop this," she said out of blue, and the quiet tapping of keys wasn't what she had in mind.

Q looked at her with sad eyes. He nodded his head and again quickly hid his emotions behind spectacle frames, in which a miniature of the rest of the room was reflecting.

She hated it. That bigoted aloofness which the man next to her in situations like these disposed of. However, the desire to get rid of the annoying fact still didn't mean it wasn't essential in their profession.

„I mean it, Q," she spoke up again, when she didn't hear other answer than a thoughtful hum. She knew that he wouldn't talk to her until he was provoked.

„Believe me, I fully realize the gravity of the situation," he snapped and that was it. Always evasive. The irritation hand in hand with insult hidden behind carefully chosen words and the tone covered in red anger.

She sighed, because she knew exactly how helpless Q felt in moments when he started to analyse a problem in the privacy of his own mind. Eve saw the young man again and again throwing himself into the maw of incandescent furnace, whose flames didn't burn skin, but consumed something inside him – something inside his soul.

And every time he charred came up from the deadly embrace; he had left a piece of himself behind.

"You're destroying yourself with this," she said with a hint of desperation that could never be recognized by any untrained person.

But Q _was_ trained and a genius on top of that. "I know perfectly well, where my line is, Eve."

Yes, but did he also know, that he had already crossed that line a long time ago? She knew he understood the problem just as good as she did. Yet, Q was rather going to kid himself than admit that in fact he didn't want to solve the problem, even though he should.

She wanted to help him - pull a broken man out of the flames and hide him into palms like a burned moth, which couldn't (just like him) resist the flickering heat.

"He'll hurt you," she tried to ignite a spark in him, even though she knew her words were incredibly rude.

Eve was selfish, because she wanted to provoke at least a hint of an emotion to make sure, that Q was clam only on the outside. Although deep down she already knew Q wasn't uncaring, she couldn't avoid her cruelty.

But the words spoken with good intentions lashed like a whip, and suddenly she wasn't sure if they were ever meant to be spoken. With one sentence, she opened the Pandora's Box. It was selfish and cruel from her, but she did it out of love.

Out of love for a friend, who she wanted to at least protect if not save him. And things done out of love couldn't be wrong.

"No!"

Out of sudden, Eve saw more than she expected. Maybe Q was glaring daggers at her, repugnance swimming in those green pools, and his posture spoke of fury boiling under the skin, but her words cut to the quick more than she wanted.

For a second, the briefest moment, she was allowed to see the inferno that Q was experiencing. Fear screaming in agony mingled with suffering, frustration and pain so severe that it felt like a blade slicing through her flesh. She couldn't bear the weight of his gaze and turned away. Her hands were shaking.

She couldn't imagine how her friend must feel anymore, and to be honest, she did not longer want to find out. The only glimpse was going to haunt her till the end of her life, of that she was sure.

"He would never-"

She heard him stop himself and saw how he let the coldest mask that she ever saw adhere to his face like a second skin. Eve knew his self-confidence and trust were balancing on the tip of knife and it was only a matter of time until one of them fell over the edge.

But that could take years and she was terrified of how many pieces Q would break into in that long time.

"Unintentionally," she heard herself say. "He has done it so many times before – he'll mess up, or play dead again, or lie to you-"

She dropped another bomb. Much worse than the one before.

"Never," he said sharply and Eve almost took a step back. Suddenly, he was terrifying. She knew Q was just as innocent as a girl with smeared lipstick in a tucked alley, but he never let his darker side seep to the surface.

Well, today was full of firsts.

"He would never lie to me," he said icily, face made of steel.

* * *

_Please tell me I'm your one and only_

_Or lie, and say at least tonight_

_I've got a brand new cure for lonely_

_And if you give me what I want_

_Then I'll give you what you like_

After Q ejected her from his office, Eve was rushing briskly through the MI6 corridors with a frown. She was going quickly, because the loud clapping sound of her heels provided at least some consolation.

James Bond was a liar that was true. It was in his job description. However, claim that he was lying to Q was something eternally different. A fragile trust based on a year of cooperation could be shattered just like a crystal chandelier. Shards would be everywhere and no one would ever put the pieces back together.

Out of fear, that something like that could happen, their working relationship slowly resized into a kind of a parody of a romantic one.

It was a long time ago since they let themselves trust another person. And maybe it was exactly the long wait that intensified the momentum of the whole situation. Nevertheless, it wasn't a healthy relationship and they both knew it.

They didn't talk about emotions. Q was a genius - emotions weren't essential for any of his calculations. James had already seen so much death in his life that he had to be as dull as a knife that had never been sharpened.

They weren't meant to be together. Always hurting each other, burning without a chance to escape the flames. As individuals they were priceless, as a team they were deadlier than all the double-oh agents together. But as a couple?

Eve sighed and sharply turned a corner. On the opposite wall a small camera turned away with a quiet buzz.

* * *

Back in his office, Q sighed and turned back on the communication.

"Something new, 007?"

"Nothing. I'll let you know when Russia thaws," answered the agent and the communication went silent again.

The head of the Q-branch smiled and thought about time, when he would had been willing to take Eve Moneypenny's warnings seriously...

_Please wrap your drunken arms around me_

_And I'll let you call me yours tonight_

_'Cause slightly broken's just what I need_

_And if you give me what I want_

_Then I'll give you what you like_

"James."

It was a moan sweet as a secret wish and urgent like a prayer. Q was writhing on white sheets like a snake. His fingers were tangled in short hair of an agent, who certainly wasn't meant to be in Q's bedroom, but more likely reporting back to M in his office.

"Ah."

He arched his back in pleasure, but cried out in surprise when two rows of teeth sunk into his thigh. He froze for a moment, his eyes wide open. Tugging on the hair to make sure he was wrong only made Bond stay on the spot where he wanted to be. With an irritated grunt he dug fingers of the hand, which wasn't squeezing Q's manhood, into the second still white thigh.

_He's drunk._

Q licked his red lips in horror and really - there was the acrid taste of whiskey. Before he could get away from the clasp that could became fatal at any time, he felt warm lips and a wet tongue on the head of his cock.

Feeling despair when he moaned against his will, he automatically pressed closer.

He couldn't escape so he suppressed the nausea from his own weakness, closed his eyes and whispered the name of his lover again. He knew James couldn't hear him. At the moment he was noting more than a warm body to him.

Body he wanted to dismantle to tiny pieces without minding his strength. Quickly, his hands turned into claws, kisses became bitter and the embrace felt like a trap.

Q fought with himself. He knew if he panicked, James would probably hurt him. At the same time he couldn't help feeling uneasy and fragile. However, those feels vanished as quickly as they appeared. Only fear remained.

He wasn't worried for himself. No, he never had been or at least not for long. Q was worried about the man who was one step away from becoming an animal. He knew that if he panicked and James would inadvertently hurt him, his agent would blame himself.

Both Q and James hated remorse. They couldn't avoid the feel of repugnance which always came after. Nobody ever recognized it. They were experts at hiding emotions, so the only one who could see through all the masks, was the other one of them.

* * *

James was sitting somewhere in the middle of Russia waiting for his Quartermaster to turn on their communication.

He knew that it was turned off, because Moneypenny came to Q's office. He also knew what she wanted to talk about.

The agent sighed tiredly and thought about time when he wouldn't have found her nosy remarks annoying...

_Emotions aren't that hard to borrow_

_When love's the word you never learned_

_And in a room of empty bottles_

_If you don't give me what I want_

_Then you'll get what you deserve_

James woke up as always - he didn't open his eyes until he evaluated his surroundings. First thing he noticed was the soft bed he was lying on. The sheets were smooth and smelled nice. He moved his fingers and touched something warm. James sat up with a start.

"Q."

His voice was hoarse and hiding so much sorrow it made him sick. The man next to him was sleeping peacefully, curled up with a blanket clenched in his fists so his chest was covered.

James breathed out shakily and hesitantly touched a purple-yellow bruise on his lover's left wrist. He quickly pushed himself to the other end of the bed. He felt like vomiting.

He knew that cowardly running away would only make Q feel worse rather than if he decided to stay. How many times had he promised to him not to do that again? James hated himself for it. He was hurting the only person who truly loved him. And what was worse, he couldn't walk away from him. He was a selfish bastard.

With a pained expression he lay back down and took the slender body into his arms. He half expected it to be cold, even though the idea was completely absurd. But certainly not any less scary. Q pressed into him and sighed softly. James buried his face into dark curls and for one frighteningly absurd moment felt tears in his eyes.

He hated himself, because he allowed himself to become something Q was never supposed to see or at least not experience firsthand. With a feeling of despair he whispered an apology, which didn't help him let alone his lover:

"I'm so sorry, love."

Q smiled in his sleep, steeped in blissful ignorance.

* * *

_I'll give you one last chance to hold me_

_If you give me one last cigarette_

_By now it's early in the morning_

_Now that I gave you what you want_

_All I want is to forget_

"Still trying to talk you out of it?"

Q looked at the man next to him. They were both leaning against a balcony railing of a house, which allegedly didn't exist. Enjoying for once a nice English weather, they were both smoking a cigarette. The package was lying on James' bedside table; because he claimed he had a better control than Q.

"She came to me just yesterday," Q smirked and breathed out a cloud of grey. "She had a feeling I was upset."

"You were upset. You saw red, because you couldn't find the blue cardigan in the morning. I was afraid that poor Boothroyd would get the worst of it," James chuckled and threw his butt down to the streets of London. Q didn't even bother to raise an eyebrow anymore.

"That bloody animal would deserve nothing less," snored Q and stubbed out his cigarette in the prearrange ashtray. James rolled his eyes.

"You aren't jealous of a cat, are you?" he laughed aloud and wrapped his arms around the scowling man from behind. When Q hit his forearm, he kissed his temple.

"I took him in our house, I feed him and even clean that bloody cat litter!" the young man threw up his arms to emphasize his indignation. "Don't I deserve at least a little gratitude?"

"Maybe..." James smiled and rested his chin on black curls which were dishevelled in the morning more than ever. Sometimes their morning activity, which often preceded their smoking on the balcony, left Q's hair in such a mess that made him repeatedly threat to just shave it off.

"...but I don't throw him out of my lap like a bag of garbage every time my computer beeps, love," he finished his thought.

"True," smirked Q and leaned back into the strong embrace. It started to get cold.

"Come inside," said James and began to stroke slender hips. Q laughed and pressed even closer until he felt the man's erection. James grunted and kissed his neck.

"Your appetite seems insatiable, Mr. Bond," Q joked and sighed when his head was moved to the side, so James could get a better access to his pulse point.

"Indeed," agreed James in a tone which made Q laugh again. "Especially if the dessert is as sweet as this one," he smiled slyly and in a swift movement turned Q around so they were facing each other.

They were looking into the other's eyes for a moment. Q wrapped his arms around his neck with a smile and kissed him lightly on the lips only to move away again.

"Imp," said James and joined their lips again in a fierce kiss. Q sighed contentedly and pushed him into the outside wall of their bedroom. It didn't take long and it was him pinned to the wall with his legs wrapped around James' waist.

"Take me to bedroom," he ordered and pressed his erection against his lover's thigh.

"As Her Majesty wishes," James grinned and effortlessly moved them without breaking the next kiss.

Q fell on the bed and watched with narrowed eyes his agent undress. In the meanwhile he didn't lift a finger.

"Will you just lie there?"

"Probably."

"Should I leave?" asked James in amusement and Q pulled him down on the bed with a laugh. Their lips parted for a brief moment when they tried to get rid of Q's sweater.

"I hate your clothes," growled James and threw the offending piece on the ground.

"You love it," Q smirked and again silenced him with a kiss. When he crossed his ankles on the small of James' back and forced him to lie on him, they both groaned.

"God," cursed James and kissed the white shoulder in front of him.

"I'd rather you call me by my given name," smiled Q, which made the remark lose its common mockery. He stroked James' cheek and lifted his head to steal another kiss.

"I know," James returned the smile and grabbed him by the wrist of his raised hand, which he kissed without breaking the eye contact. "Ben," he whispered and let himself fall into a loving embrace.

Q clung to him even closer now. It was hard to say how much he loved the other man. Fortunately, they were both used to express their emotions in other ways than by words. Just like the small gesture a while ago, an innocent kiss on white wrist, was hiding more significance for both of them then a declaration of love.

It was a promise - promise that James would never hurt him again as he had done a few times in the past. Promise to protect him from everything, even himself. At the same time it was a plea for Q not to leave him. To stay with him until one of them died.

"James."

It was a plea and a promise at the same time. He repeated the name with the same urgency he knew James felt. Q arched his back and clenched white sheet into a fist. James' palm opened that fist and entwined their fingers.

The wrist of his other hand James squeezed, but only so much that Q knew he would never let go.

Maybe that Eve was right. They really hurt each other, but that was a long time ago. Yes, neither of them came out of the flames without burns, but Q felt that the flames purified him. He wasn't the same person, but his new self wasn't bad at all.

"I love you," whispered James just before he climaxed.

Q arched his back, cried out and repeated the declaration.

Maybe that they had really burned in the flames, but when the wind blew the ashes away, something better had been created. They weren't two different people anymore - from that moment they'd belonged to each other. And for that was all the pain worth it.

_When you turn off the lights_

_I get stars in my eyes_

_Is this love?_

_Maybe someday_

_I've got the scene in my head_

_I'm not sure how it ends_

_Is it love?_

_Maybe one day_

_So don't turn on the lights_

_I'll give you what you like_

_Give you what you like_

* * *

**Well, I hope you liked it :)**

**I fell in love with this song as soon as I heard it and immediately thought about 00Q - in the end it's not exactly what I wanted (first it wasn't supposed to have a happy ending), but I couldn't help myself, I just love this pair so much.**

**Thanks for reading, l****eave a comment, please so I know what you think.**

**Oh and sorry for the mistakes if there's any (you're welcome to point them out ;))**


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